Name: Demeter Gray
Rank: Chief Medical Officer
Weight- 145 lbs.
Eye Color- Blue
Hair Color- Black (Brunette)
Demeter W. Gray was an eighteen year old woman who worked for a privatized military group known as The Black Nova Faction. The Black Nova Faction were a band of hired mercenaries of the most rugged, yet accomplished reputation. They were skilled soldiers, technicians, and weapons experts brought together for the express purpose of making exorbitant amounts of money through conflict and global resource disputes. This was the group that the nations of Terre would use exclusively when they wanted the power balanced shifted in their favor without having to acknowledge or take public responsibility for their own involvement. Backed by a wealthy, and considerably pompous entrepreneur named Phineas Ramsay, the Novas received contracts for what seemed like every major skirmish across the face of Terre. Not only were they well known for their reckless attitudes and ‘devil may care’ opinion of most established authority, they also were notorious for leaving things worse than when they arrived. Picture smoldering ruins and a plethora of cadavers with little to no evidence as to what happened or why. “The Nova Horde” became the running joke, and nightmare, among the socio-political world.
When the wars finally dried up (and the money with them), a twenty-four year old Demeter found herself between jobs and extremely bored. Realizing that she had to adopt a more “citizen-like” lifestyle if she wanted to survive, she made the decision to go to medical school. After all, although she had real world knowledge of stitching up body parts due to her days with the Novas, she doubted whether anyone would give her a second glance without the paper and seal combination of a degree. Not only did she excel in her studies, she also developed a reputation as one of the most brilliant practical medical minds of her time. Her mastery over medicine and theory promised a wider range of employment options. Once she had completed her program and immersed herself in a myriad of residencies, Demeter began to feel that all too familiar itch for adventure. She enrolled in the Carodith Navy and began her climb up the ranks. Due to her medical knowledge and undeniable “charm”, it didn’t take long for her to establish quite a reputation and give her commanding officers more headaches than they were prepared for. Still, like most everyone then, she too would be put to the test.
The Grayling was one of the more well-known attack submarines in the Carodith Republic Navy’s already impressive fleet. Demeter joined the ranks of the 2,000+ crew as an assistant to the then C.M.O., Dr. Alister Weston. Surprisingly, Weston took a shine to Demeter’s innate tenacity and encouraged her aggressive push against the ideas and beliefs of modern Carodith medicine. He allowed her to diagnose and treat several of the more serious cases onboard, and even learned a thing or two from her hard-earned field knowledge. Weston understood that his book learned approaches weren’t always practical and he marveled at Demeter’s willingness to show him what she knew. The two became fast and fierce friends during the Grayling’s many deep sea missions into enemy territory. Campaigns could take months at a time and the bond between crewmates was a serious one, especially for those in the Republic.
When a mysterious sickness began to spread through the officers and crew, Weston and Demeter found themselves pushed to the very limits of their endurance. Members of the crew began to complain of severe headaches and chest pressure. They would then develop high fevers after a week and start to hallucinate, oftentimes violently attacking their own fellow bunkmates without provocation. During the following day victims would fall into comas only to die hours later from extreme internal temperatures. People were melting from the inside out and no one could figure out why. Of course, being on a submarine miles upon miles away from even a thought of land, the two medical officers had limited resources in which to counter the outbreak. They worked tirelessly. Establishing a quarantine. Running tests. Exchanging theories. Studying samples. Comforting patients. Days began to run together and moments passed in a blur. It was only a matter of weeks before the Grayling would have no crew left to run her.
When Weston fell ill himself, Demeter knew they had run out of time. But he still insisted that she keep going even if she had to study him to uncover the origin of the virus. It tore her apart inside and it took a considerable amount of coaxing on his part to get her to cooperate. Demeter reluctantly did what he asked and eventually discovered that vapors from the submarine’s pressure systems held a mineral bacterium that was behind the many crew deaths. How to kill it was still anyone’s guess. With Weston slipping away, she tended to him and the others, waiting for her own symptoms to appear. But after twenty four hours, none did. Although struggling against his own feverish decay, Weston urged Demeter to see if she possessed an antibody that they could synthesize in order to treat the others. From his bed, he gave her directions on what to do. She was frantic in her pace, working into the late hours with only the soft whisper of Weston’s rasping voice to keep her company.
By the time she had created an antidote, Dr. Alister Weston was gone. Only the captain, herself, and 150 crew members had survived to bring the Grayling home. The outbreak was documented and she was given honors and a promotion, cementing her reputation as a more than capable (if not genius) medical officer that any ship would be lucky to have. Demeter, on the other hand, didn’t feel lucky in the least.
Demeter is a total Carodith rascal. She’s playful and mischievous, but can be disarmingly professional when necessary. The woman has a knack for emasculating/using men and charming/seducing women. She also can be quick with retorts, jokes, information, and explanations. Truly, the woman thinks on her toes like no one else. She also likes to gamble (a guilty pleasure). She’s capable of a quite a temper if riled, and fiery doesn’t even come close to describing it. So naturally, she’s prone to swearing like a sailor. She also tends to be extremely protective of her medical tools and supplies. For the most part, her demeanor is friendly and easy-going; and she has a major addiction to excitement and adventure, an addiction that oftentimes gets her into the most intense trouble. But then again, what true rascal ever learns?